So Icy
by nignonymous
Summary: After Weiss' departure the remaining Schnees find themselves settling into familiar patterns. This is a day in the life of Atlas' first family.
1. Can't Ban The Snowman

Jacques was awake before his alarm went off. He didn't even know why he kept it on at this point. The clock's shrill beeping only lasted a couple of seconds, but it was still enough to grate on his nerves. He groaned and crawled out of bed.

He took a long, hot shower. The scalding water was the best way he knew to relax. If today was like any other day it would be the only peaceful moment. He stepped out the shower and felt a blast of frigid air all over his body. Now he was fully awake. All that was left was to get ready for work.

He put on his freshly pressed suit and tie and looked himself over in the mirror. Everything was perfect, just how he liked it.

"Wow, lookin' good handsome."

Jacques turned around at the sound of the woman's voice. It was a young woman with short blonde hair. Her large, bushy tail curled against her back.

Jacques groaned. "Why are you still here?"

The woman giggled. "I just wanted to see you before I left."

"Get your money from Klein and leave."

The woman threw her arms around him. "Don't be like that. You always act so cold, but you'll always be my little snowman."

Jacques pushed the woman away. "That is enough. If you don't leave this instant I will have security escort you out."

The woman knew her time was up. "Okay. See you tonight?"

Jacques gave a non-committal grunt. Once that was taken care of he went off to work.

As he was leaving he passed by his son, Whitley. The boy was his spitting image. He looked like him, dressed like him, and he even talked like him. It was flattering, but also unnerving.

"Hello Whitley."

The boy looked up at his father. His face was a blank, like always. Jacques could never tell what this boy was thinking.

"Good morning father. Are you off to work?"

"Yes. I won't be back until the evening."

"Very well. Have a good day, father."

Jacques left without responding.

OoOoOoO

Work was boring. Same thing as every other day. Profits are down, more White Fang attacks, more negative press from other kingdoms about Atlas. The other men in the room were nothing but yes men and ankle biters. Each one bored Jacques to tears. The only thing more annoying than their obvious brown-nosing was their transparent attempts to undercut him to boost their own wealth. He wondered how much more of this he would have to endure. His eyes went to the door. Maybe today would be the day the White Fang burst through and killed everyone in the room. Part of him was jealous of the old man. Nicholas had the right idea; build your name up and die a legend. Maybe one day he'll get his chance too. He could see it now: Jacques Schnee, killed in battle against White Fang. On the way home he could commission a gravestone. Maybe something fancy, with holograms.

"Mr. President?" a coworker broke Jacques out of his daydream

"What?" Jacques responded.

"You've been staring at the door for a while now. Are you waiting on something?"

"No. If there's nothing left to discuss I'm going to call it a day."

He left the office and went down to his car where his driver was waiting.

The driver gave a friendly smile. "Hello sir. How was work?"

"The same as every other day." Jacques responded.

The driver laughed. "I'm sorry to hear that."

As they drove home Jacques looked out the window. The skyscrapers that towered overhead, the airships leaving port, Atlas tower looming in the distance. He couldn't help but sigh. Nicholas helped build this city. Jacques knew he could spend the rest of his life trying and never reach such heights.

The driver spoke up. "Oh, by the way, you have a message from General Ironwood."

This was the first good news of the day. Even if it was only to hear bad news he enjoyed the general's company.

"What was the message?" Jacques asked.

"He said he was stopping by to come and see you."

"Very well."

As they drove on, Jacque's face bore the slightest hint of a smile.

OoOoOoO

"So you have no idea where she might be?"

Jacques leaned back in his chair and poured himself a drink. "No, but if I had to guess she's probably in Mistral. Everything seems to be happening there lately."

When Weiss disappeared in the middle of the night Jacques was furious at first. After having time to think on it he realized "SDC President and globe-trotting defender of justice" had a nicer ring to it. Either way he had no reason to worry. Weiss had already proven herself strong enough to survive on her own.

"If she is in Mistral I can have some people look for her."

Jacques shook his head. "If I try to bring her back now she'll just run away again. Let her get this out of her system, and she'll come back on her own eventually."

Ironwood sighed. "You really need to fix how you see people."

"Why? It's worked so far hasn't it?"

"Look around you. Two kids gone, another one looking like he's on his way out, a wife that won't talk to you. You call that working?"

"In life sacrifices must be made in order to succeed."

"And you decided to sacrifice your family's happiness, and your own."

"Exactly. At the very least it wasn't anything important."

Ironwood rolled his eyes. "You really are a ray of sunshine. I have to head out. You take care."

"You as well. It's always a pleasure to see you."

After Ironwood left Jacques reached into his desk and pulled out a silver revolver. It was a gift James had gotten him several years ago. He stared at it for a while, seemingly deep in thought. After several minutes he put it away.

"No, not today."


	2. I'm Not A Regular Person

Growing up one thing Whitley had to learn was how to read his father's face. Since he rarely emoted like a normal person the only way to gauge how he was feeling was by viewing the subtle shifts in his expression.

His default state was his normal disinterested expression. That meant that he would be easy to talk to. A slight downward curve of his mouth meant that he had a less than ideal day. If Whitley tread lightly then everything would be fine. A slight narrowing of his eyes meant that he had just come back from a funeral. On those days there was no telling what might set him off, so Whitley gave him a wide berth.

Over time Whitley learned to read his father's mood, and grew confident in his ability to predict his behavior.

All of that changed when Weiss left.

For the first couple of weeks his father was in a constant rage. The most insignificant slight sent him over the edge. Three servants quit, finding themselves unable to deal with his abuse. Of course servants could leave whenever they wanted. Whitley wasn't so lucky. He did his best to avoid his father, but the times where he was required to be around him were like walking through a minefield. The slightest imperfection, the smallest item out of place, the faintest hint of rebellion. Anything could set his father off.

However, those days are in the past. Now he had returned to his normal life.

Whitley woke up and looked through his schedule to see what his agenda for today was. Tutoring, piano lessons, painting lessons. His schedule was sparse today. He didn't have tutoring for another few hours. He stepped out his room and saw his father on his way to work.

His father looked down at him. His blue eyes seemed to pierce through the young boy.

"Hello Whitley"

Whitley kept a cool head. His father usually didn't get angry in the morning.

"Good morning father. Are you off to work?"

Jacques walked away as he answered. "Yes. I will not be back until evening."

"Very well. Have a good day father."

Jacques left without responding. On one hand Whitley was glad he didn't have to engage him further. On the other hand he wished he could talk to his father more. These days he was the only one he was able to talk to. Winter and Weiss were both gone, and his mother was either sleeping or in no condition to talk to anyone. None of the servants stayed around him longer than they had to, and he had no friends in the city. The White Fang killed most of his relatives, and the few that stuck around only came by to ask for money.

Nothing good would come from dwelling on that, so Whitley went to the kitchen to get something to eat. His footsteps echoed through the hall. There was only one less person in the house, but it had never felt so empty.

When he arrived in the kitchen he saw a woman standing in front of an open refrigerator. She was drinking juice straight out the bottle like a savage, oblivious to the idea that other people might want some too.

Whitley cleared his throat loudly. The woman looked over and smiled at him.

"Hey little guy. What're you up to?"

"Why are you still here?" Whitley asked. He wasn't stupid. He knew who this woman was and what she did. There was no reason for her to be here if his father wasn't.

The woman shrugged. "I was hungry, wanted to grab a bite before I left. You want something?"

"No thank you." Whitley made a mental note to throw out the fridge and turned to leave.

The woman called out to him. "Hey, if you're bored you wanna do something?"

Whitley looked at the woman. "Sorry, I don't have any cash on me."

The woman laughed. "Nah, you're a little young for that, although give it a few years and maybe… no, I was thinking we could go see a movie or something."

Whitley eyed the woman suspiciously. "Why the interest?"

"I dunno. Every time I see you you've got this really bored look on your face. I just want you to enjoy yourself for once."

"I'm afraid I will have to decline. I suggest you adhere to what your job requires."

Whitley went back to his room. He hated that he considered that woman's offer for a second. That was proof he still had much farther to go. He was still weak. That was why his sisters left him behind.

He walked up to the piano in his room and sat down in front of it. He closed his eyes and began to play. It was a song about his life, and how he felt about his family. As much as he didn't want to admit it he missed his sisters. He missed the days where they were together. The tension and anger in the house was easier to bear when they were around. He hated that they had left, but he hated the fact that they left without him even more. Was there really no love in their hearts for him? Did they look at him and see only their father? He saw how close the two of them were. They cared for and supported each other all this time. Why did they never send any kindness his way?

As he kept playing he knew that this was the best piece he had ever performed.

Although the room was soundproof, so no one but him would ever hear it.

Whitley's pale blue aura enveloped his body as he continued to play. His senses were sharper than normal He instinctively knew what keys to hit for maximum effect. As the song reached its climax a stray thought crossed his mind.

He'd never seen his father smile. Not even once.


	3. Gucci Breakfast

If you were to ask Willow when things started going downhill, she'd likely say around the time after her second child was born. Nicholas had just died, the White Fang were ramping up their attacks, and the SDC found itself the target of several rival corporations. It was around that time where Jacques began to change. He smiled less, and got angry more often. He would make excuses to avoid coming home, and when he did he barely said a word to anyone.

Those were the good days. The bad days were some of the worst of her life. Her husband's rage was nearly unbearable, and she found herself a frequent target of it. That was when she started drinking. Things got slightly better when she had her third child, but by then she had become a full blown alcoholic. She had also discovered a fondness for various medicines.

Willow groaned and fell out of bed. Her vision was too blurry to see straight. As she stumbled to her feet she bumped her leg against a small dresser. That was all she needed to wake up. A quick glance at the clock told her that it was two in the afternoon. In other words, drink time. She shambled towards the kitchen, barely feeling the cold tiles on her feet.

She rifled through the kitchen cabinets but found nothing but empty bottles. A groan left her lips. There's no way she had drunk everything. That's when she remembered the emergency liquor she stashed in Winter's old room.

As she walked back she passed by the large portrait that Jacques had hung up. It was a painting of the entire Schnee family together. Looking at it brought back all kinds of memories. That painting took four hours to finish and cost one hundred thousand Lien. Of course those were all things she learned after the fact. That day she was on so much stuff she didn't even know what day it was. However despite all the things she took to even be able to be around her husband, she was still gripped with a sense of unease that no drugs could get rid of. That stuck with her to this day. Awkward feelings like that are what alcohol was invented for, so she got herself properly equipped and went out into the garden.

She felt the warm sunlight on her as she laid back in her chair. Her drink was already halfway gone, but she was still thinking. What would her father think if he saw her like this? Nicholas always tried to bring the best out of people. That's what made him so popular. He was the first in the mines and the last out. He loved everyone around him and was loved in return. He even took a young man from the slums of Mantle and made him his right hand. When he got too ill to run the company he chose that man to take over.

Maybe this was her punishment for her complacency. She was fine with letting Jacques take control, if only because he knew what it took to run a business. She was content to lay back and live in luxury. But after a while her husband had changed. It was so gradual she barely noticed it. Looking at him now he was completely different from the man she had married.

Willow knew that if she was able to think she wasn't drunk enough, so she drained the rest of the first bottle. The alcohol burned going down, just how she liked it. She popped the cork on another bottle when she heard someone walk into the garden.

"You rich folk really know how to party."

Willow already knew it was that woman again. She was another reminder of how Jacques had changed. The first time he'd been caught cheating he spent a week apologizing. Then he stopped apologizing. After that he stopped hiding his affairs.

"Why are you still here?" Willow asked the woman.

The woman shrugged. "To be honest I've got nothing to do. Mind if I join you?"

Willow shrugged.

The woman pulled up a chair and sat down. She grabbed a bottle and took a drink. The drink burned her throat. She coughed and pounded her chest. "Phew. That's got some kick to it."

Willow scoffed and took another drink. "Lightweight."

The woman laughed. "Sorry, I don't drink much." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a blunt. "This is more my speed." She lit the blunt and took a long drag. After holding her breath she blew out a cloud of smoke. "That's the stuff. You wanna hit?"

Willow rolled her eyes. "I remember being sixteen too. Although, if you really want to party…" her voice trailed off as she left the garden. When she came back she had a two liter bottle of soda in one hand, and what looked like several bottles of medicine in the other.

She set them all down on the table and clapped her hands together. In an instant a servant appeared with a pair of glasses. She opened what looked like a bottle of cough syrup, the kind you can only get with a prescription, and poured some into a glass. Then she added some soda to it and took a sip.

Willow instantly felt more relaxed. "You have to try this."

The woman poured herself a glass. As soon as she swallowed a bit she felt different. It felt like everything had slowed down. She alternated between the drink and the blunt until she couldn't see straight.

Willow and the woman kept drinking and smoking together. Neither of them said a word to each other. It reminded Willow of all the company gatherings she had to go to. She would just sit in the corner drinking by herself while Jacques took care of all the important business matters. At least now she had someone to slowly kill herself with.

The woman picked up a bottle of medicine and looked at the label. "Didn't a bunch of people OD on these?"

Willow started laughing. "That's how you know it's good. But I think it's a little early for those." She took another drink and popped a painkiller. "Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot" the woman responded.

"How does someone end up in your line of work?"

"Not much else out there for me. I was born a Faunus in Mantle, so right out the gate I've got two strikes against me. I couldn't afford going to school, and I wasn't built to work a mine shaft. It was either this or start making movies."

"I'm assuming you mean the kind of movies they don't show in theatres. So how did you end up here, in my home?"

The woman leaned back and looked up at the sky. "I don't know myself. One day I get a call from my boss saying I've got a client. I'm thinking he wants me to go to some motel or something, but he ends up giving me directions to the Schnee manor. I couldn't believe it when he told me. I guess Jacques saw something about me he liked. He must really like me since he keeps calling me back." Her eyes widened and she clamped a hand over her mouth. "Oh crap, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't be saying that about your husband."

Willow sighed. "It doesn't matter. We're only still married to keep up appearances. He already has someone to carry on the family name so he doesn't need me anymore. He made that clear a long time ago. At this point I'm sure you know him better than I do."

"Nope. When I'm with him he never says more than he has to. It's like it's just another business thing he has to do. Not to toot my own horn or anything but I thought I'd at least get him to crack a smile or something. He just looks so bored all the time."

Willow chuckled. "Don't beat yourself up. I haven't seen him so much as smirk in years." She put her head in her hands. "He used to be different. He used to laugh, take me out on dates, spend time with his kids." There was a long pause before she said what was really on her mind. "He used to love me."

She grabbed her glass and emptied it. She could feel another blackout coming on. "Do me a favor. Make sure I'm on my side so I don't choke to death. Or don't, it's up to you." she fell to the ground with a thud.

The woman carried Willow back to her room and laid her on her bed. She grabbed some pillows and propped the unconscious Schnee onto her side. After moving her hair behind her head she turned to leave when she heard Willow muttering to herself.

"Look Jacques, it's our daughter. She's so beautiful."

The woman left Willow behind. It would be a long time before she ever returned to the Schnee household.


End file.
